Not As Legendary As You Thought
by Pseudonym P
Summary: "That's... a human." "Excuse me, I'm a GIRL, not an it." / I wanted to prove to myself (and the world) that I could write a good character, and I also wanted to prove to my friends that I can write better than some crap you see in bookstores. No pairings as of yet.
1. Introduction

_**Disclaimer:**__ I wish I owned Rise of the Guardians. Or just even Jack Frost. But I don't, and I don't make money out of using characters of Dreamworks' for my selfish, creative outlets so please show your lawyers out. _

_**Note:**__ I wanted to prove to myself that I could write a good character, and I also wanted to prove to my friends that I can write better than that piece of crap that extended into three books, which people refer to as _Fifty Shades of Grey_._

* * *

**Not As Legendary As You Thought**

* * *

_1 / Introduction_

* * *

No one ever thought a human could get this far in the realm of the Guardians.

In fact, no one ever thought a human could get _in_ the realm of the Guardian_s_, period.

"That's… a human." All five of them were hovering, and it was really starting to bother her.

"Excuse me, I'm a _girl_, not an _it_," she snapped, grey eyes flaring with irritation. "Just where the heck am I, anyway?"

"We are supposed to be asking _you_ that." A man with a long, white beard and big, blue eyes said with a thick Russian accent. "How did you get here?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking the question, now, would I?" she quipped, and the man's big shoulders lifted up and down in a shrug.

"Fine, then—what is the last thing you remember?"

The girl sighed, freckled nose wrinkling in annoyance. "I _told_ you this already. I remember falling asleep on the bus on my way home from school, and then I wake up, tied up with my hands behind my back." She paused. "Which is completely and totally unnecessary, by the way. Can someone get me out of this?"

"But you're not a child!" A colourful, flying lady exclaimed. Her exclamation was followed by several chirps from her humming bird-like… whatever they were… things that floated nearby.

"_Jesus Cristo_!" the girl whined, her voice hitching up an exasperated octave. "Will someone just explain what is going _on_?"

The white-haired boy in a hoodie gave a low whistle as he casually leaned on his staff. "Ooh, Spanish."

"I'm half-Portugese," she said irately, feeling extremely offended and growing more irritated by the second. "_Português. Faça certo da próxima vez_."

"What?"

"Learn the difference," she replied tightly. The boy scowled.

"You don't need to get so snippy about it."

The girl was about to shoot a retort when she was interrupted. "Oy, wait a minute," a giant bunny said, while a small golden fellow had a sympathetic expression. Sand floated over his head, moving to form a face with fingers pushing up the corners of the mouth in a smile. She scowled.

"I think we should all just calm down," the colourful lady interjected (more to the girl than to anyone else, which made her more annoyed), "and just start from scratch." She glided effortlessly to the girl who was seated on the floor, hands behind her back and dark brown hair strewn messily around her head. "Hi, I'm the Tooth Fairy."

"Bunnymund," the giant hare replied, words coated with a thick Australian accent. The girl tilted her head.

"What's a Bunnymund?"

"I'm the Easter Bunny," the big rabbit replied, head shaking and ears drooping. "Oy," he groaned, "no one can _ever_ get the name right…"

"North!" the bearded man boomed, cackling. "Also known as Santa Claus."

"Santa Claus doesn't have tattoos on his arms," the girl pointed out, "And isn't he supposed to have glasses? And where's your hat? You're just not Santa without your hat." The big man looked offended.

"You are going on my right arm," he said decisively, brandishing the 'Naughty' tattoo.

"This is the Sandman," the Tooth Fairy butted in before anyone could start another argument, and the small man waved. "But you can call him Sandy."

"…He's made of sand."

"That's kind of the point of being the _Sand_man," the white-haired boy quipped, and she glared at him.

"And who are you supposed to be? Befana?" The boy looked absolutely offended. The giant rabbit snorted.

"I am _Jack Frost_!" he cried out, livid. "Do I look like a woman to you?!" She blinked.

"Well, for starters, you're awfully pretty," she started, making the Easter Bunny snort, "And aren't you supposed to be a snowman?" He sputtered for a reply, but the Tooth Fairy beat him to words.

"And you are?" she asked kindly.

"Ben." Tooth's head titled.

"Ben?" she repeated.

"It's short for Benedita." The fairy's face dropped.

"You're _that_ Benedita?" she said accusingly, wings fluttering at a furious pace, "The Benedita that never puts her teeth under her pillow?"

"I… what?" Ben blinked in confusion. "My mom keeps my teeth when they fall out." The Tooth Fairy gasped.

"Why would she _do_ such a horrible thing?!"

"Wait, you mean you really _do_ collect teeth?" Ben's words got lost in a tirade of incredibly fast talking and a bunch of angry chirps, so she stared at the Easter Bunny.

"What?" he asked, getting annoyed.

"Do you mind untying me?"

He seemed to be thinking about it. "No can do, mate."

"What?!" she yelped, "Why?!"

"Because, believe it or not, you're a threat to us Guardians."

"_What_? What do you mean I'm a _threat_?"

"He means that it's weird how you can see us, when you aren't a kid," Jack Frost mumbled, still obviously offended by being called _Befana_. "Normally, people your age _don't_ believe in us."

"And normally, when you first meet someone, you _don't_ tie them up and interrogate them," she yelled, infuriated, getting everyone's attention. "Can someone _please just untie me_?!"

* * *

"Cookie?" A small elf with a jingling bell on top of his pointy hat offered a plate of cookies at her, but she recoiled when she saw a few chewed up bits that looked like they were suspiciously returned... straight from someone's mouth.

"No. But thanks. I think." The elf waddled along, bell jingling.

"Okay. Suit yourself." Santa waved off the elf.

Ben sat on a cozy red armchair of North's main office—otherwise known as Santa's Workshop—while the rest of the Guardians were off doing their thing.

Except Santa Claus, who was in his own chair behind his huge oak table, and Jack Frost, who lounged around next to an icy window, which Ben observed to have intricate figures drawn into the glass. Was that ice on the glass?

"What's he doing here?" she piped up, looking at Jack. His ice blue eyes were looking straight at her, and her brows furrowed. What was wrong with him? Why did he look so… angry? "_What_?"

"What do you mean, '_what_'?" Jack drawled, and she gave him a small glare.

"Why are you staring at me like that? Like you're really mad at me or something." Jack shrugged, dragging his eyes back to look out the window, and Ben scowled.

"Hey—"

North spoke up. "Benedita."

"It's Ben," she corrected, but she was ignored.

"Jack is here because I asked him to be. He is here because he was the one who found you."

* * *

_Well. That was fun._

_Review?_


	2. Complicated

_**Note:**__ I am actually having fun writing this. I'm trying to work on a system where I update every day, but that isn't going to work, so I'll just update whenever. That'll be slightly frequent, since it's only a thousand words a chapter, but just in case, I'll leave warnings if I can't._

_Also, __**96 viewers but only two reviews**__? Shameful. Absolutely shameful. You guys can do better than that!_

* * *

**Not As Legendary As You Thought**

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_2 / Complicated_

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"I hate California," Jack mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. He couldn't _wait_ to get out of her—too much water and not enough ice. Silently cursing Santa Claus for assigning him on this replacement mission (which Jack saw to be nothing more than bothersome babysitting—like what those 'designated drivers' do). He sighed, pulling the collar of his sweater away, a small puff of winter wind escaping to cool his neck. Ben's eyebrows raised slightly, impressed.

"That's a neat trick." Jack shrugged.

"Comes in handy. Especially in places like _this_." Some sparkles of snow dusted off Jack's face as he crinkled his nose in disgust.

Ben was offended. "We're already in Northern California. What more do you want?" She snuggled deeper into her winter scarf and coat, shoving her gloved hands into the pockets to prove a point.

"Still not as cold as I want it to be," he responded, walking ahead of her as they turned a corner. "It's so _boring_ here. Hardly any snow days. I only get good breaks for this place every few decades—which are few and far between, by the way." She frowned.

"Is that why you're mad at me?"

"What?" He turned around but didn't stop moving—in fact, he started hovering, and he shot up into the air, a gust of wind blowing over Ben's person.

"Show-off," she muttered, blowing hair out of her face. Jack grinned.

* * *

"Nice room." Ben winced at the tone, but chose to ignore it. Sure, her room was slightly unusual, with walls covered in thick stripes of red, yellow and orange, and on the wall opposite her bed and behind her wooden desk was a giant mural of the Virgin Mary.

"Thanks." She heard him mumble something along the lines of his words not being a compliment, but she ignored him.

She glared at her bedroom window. "Crap. I completely forgot it's already November." The glass fogged over from the cold, but she didn't know if that was because of the weather, or because Jack Frost was in her room. Then she realized there wasn't really a difference.

Jack was perched on her desk, one foot under him and the other dangling freely, staff leaning on his shoulder, a frown on his face. "It never snows here," he muttered, and she looked at him.

"What's wrong with that?"

"It _never_ snows here!" he exclaimed, his hands moving about in his effort to reveal his frustration.

"It snows here!" Ben defended, but stopped. "Okay, fine—the last one was a year ago. But it rains a lot, okay?" Jack just let out a grunt.

"Okay, fine. It _barely_ snows here. Which is why I hate the place. What's the point of me, the Spirit of _Winter_, being here, anyway, if I'm not supposed to make it snow?" He huffed, snowflakes falling from his breath, as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Ben's eyebrows furrowed. "Is that why you don't like me? Because I live in a place that doesn't snow?" Jack snorted.

"Do I really look that shallow to you?" he shot back, one dark eyebrow raised. "I don't like you not because you live in a place that doesn't snow. I don't like you because you _hate_ snow."

Her grey eyes widened at the glare that his frosty blue eyes were shooting in her direction. "How do you—"

"Please. I'm a Guardian; I'm _supposed_ to know these things." She noticed that he sounded particularly proud when he said the word _Guardian_, but she pushed it aside.

"So… Does me not liking snow have something to do with anything?" She figured the answer had something to do with his male ego—and she figured she was right about it, too—but he didn't answer, and she didn't press him for answers. She watched as his eyes fixed themselves at the mural behind him.

"Who made this?"

"My mom."

"You mean the old lady downstairs?" She snorted.

"Don't be stupid. That's my _avó_. My grandmother. My _mãe_ is at work." Jack looked at her and tilted his head.

"If you're half-Portugese, then why are you in America?" Ben shrugged, moving to sit on her bed, perching her hands behind her to lean on them.

"My dad's employer gave her a job. When I lived in Portugal until I was seven, my dad traveled back and forth from Portugal to America." Jack gave a small nod.

"Your dad's American?" Ben nodded.

"Yeah. But he never lets us forget we're quarter Polish." She let out a small laugh, slightly bitter, growing somber as she looked down at the white sheets covering her bed. Jack moved his head to try and meet her eyes.

"Where is he? Your dad?" Ben pressed her lips together.

"He…" she let out a breath. "He died in a car accident," she brought out lowly. "He… he was driving home with my _irmão_, my brother, last winter. It was late, and there was—there was a lot of rain—and it was raining _so hard_ and—and I don't know, Jack, I think it was cold enough for the snow, because they—they said there was ice on the road, too, or something, and then…" Jack winced when her voice hitched up a few octaves.

"I—I'm sorry. For asking. I—" She cleared her throat and shook her head, giving him a small smile.

"It's okay. Things happen." Ben pressed her lips together. Moments of awkward silence passed and Jack heard someone coming up the stairs.

"Benedita," he heard, the door creaking open to reveal a golden-skinned woman, similar to that of Ben's, with a kind smile on her aged face, brown eyes, and brown hair dusted with grey. "_Você quer alguma coisa para comer_?"

Ben smiled back. "_Não, eu estou bem. Mas graças,_ mamita." The woman nodded, moving to pull her head out of the door, but she paused.

"Benedita?"

"_Sim_?" The lady's deep brown eyes dragged over to where Jack was, and he froze (no pun intended). He could—he could almost swear she could _see_ him…

Jack let out a breath when the woman pulled her eyes from him to look around the room and landed once again on her granddaughter.

"Benedita… _Tenha cuidado_." Ben gave her a small smile.

"_Eu vou_. I will, mamita."

"What? What happened?" Jack asked once the woman closed the door and he couldn't hear her footsteps.

"My grandmother's always been…" she paused to look for the right word, "Perceptive."

_Great_, Jack thought disdainfully.

"Hey," Ben started, fidgeting with her fingers, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. It's just..." she sighed. "Things like that get me talking."

Jack nodded lightly in assent. Dead silence enveloped them for a few minutes before Jack's words cut through them, his thought racing out of his mouth before he could catch it. "Is that why you hate snow?"

"What?" Ben lifted her eyes to see his face, which was full of quiet curiosity. Jack stood up and leaned on the desk, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

"The snow. You hate it." Jack paused, carefully deciding on his next words. "Is it because of… your dad and brother?"

Jack's fingers curled tighter around his staff as he waited for an answer. The moment the words came out of his mouth, he mentally berated himself for asking such a thing. It was such a personal question, he realized, and he had no right to be asking those questions to someone he found unconscious two days ago near—

"I don't hate the snow."

Jack didn't falter. "But you hate the cold." It was quiet again, Ben's sigh breaking the silence.

"Yeah," she muttered, bringing her hand to rub at her eye. "Yeah."

Jack pressed his lips together and didn't say anything.

* * *

_This is really turning out to be a _lot_ of fun. I especially love the researching part out of all of this writing stuff. _

_Please review!_


	3. Making History

_**Note:**__ Third chapter! I think I'll just upload every weekend because that's when I'm free to write a thousand words._

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**Not As Legendary As You Thought**

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_3 / Making History_

* * *

Ben sneezed, shivering into her coat and glaring at Jack Frost's back as she walked behind him. The setting sun was turning his hoodie into a darker shade of blue, almost grey, but the snow on his shoulders sparkled as if they were fresh flakes. They were on their way to meet Bunnymund.

"You're doing this on purpose," she said, words slightly muffled from her cold. She heard Jack bite back his laughter.

"I'm not doing anything." They turned a corner and she was so tempted to just walk straight instead of following him.

"You're making my cold worse!" This time, Jack laughed. He turned and laughed harder when he saw the sour look on Ben's face.

"I'm Jack _Frost_, lady."

"You're also Captain Obvious," she said sarcastically, "Thanks. Why you and not Bunnymund?"

"Ask Santa," Jack replied, leading her to a back alley. A familiar twitch of bunny ears caught her attention. The hare smirked.

"Frosty." The Spirit of Winter mirrored the smirk.

"Bunny." Bunnymund focused his eyes on Ben, and Ben tried her best to give a smile. The giant bunny recoiled, which gave Ben the idea that she looked absolutely rotten.

"What happened to you?" he asked bluntly, and Ben glared at Jack.

"I'm sick, but I'll probably get over it faster with this snowman out of the way." She gave a nasty sneeze, and the Easter Bunny flinched.

"It was a phase," Jack muttered in futile defense, but Ben ignored it.

"How long have you been sick?" Bunny asked, and Ben shrugged, a weak movement that looked like it took everything she could muster.

"I don't know—three days maybe?"

"_Told you_ it wasn't my fault!" Jack cried victoriously at Bunnymund, who scowled. "I dropped her off a week and a half ago. I'm innocent!"

Ben ignored the white-haired Guardian's joy, moving past him to press herself to the giant mammal. She groaned.

"So _waaaarm._" Ben sighed, almost in relief, and the giant bunny hurriedly tapped his foot on the ground. The floor opened up beneath them and they both sank through the hole.

"Hey—wait!" came Jack's call as he took a nosedive, the hole closing up behind him.

* * *

"She's sick." Tooth said decisively, and all heads—including the small fairies Tooth brought with her—turned to look at Jack.

"Wh—I didn't do anything!" he said defensively, raising his palms up. "Okay, fine, maybe I _did_ drag her out on purpose," Jack admitted guiltily.

Sandy and Bunnymund looked at each other, while North looked like he wanted to burst out laughing. Tooth had an eyebrow raised. "Why are you all looking at me like that…" Jack questioned, suspicious.

"Well, we know you like her, mate," Bunnymund started, and Jack's jaw dropped.

"I do _not_!" The Sandman started to make heart shapes, and Jack felt his cheeks go over freezing point.

North's laugh boomed across Bunnymund's domain, making the small walking eggs scuttle back to their hiding places. "Your _face_!"

Jack felt his cheeks move up to five degrees Celsius. "What?"

"Oh, Jack," Tooth giggled, "You are _so_ gullible." She laughed along with the other members of the Big Four (well, Sandman shook more than laughed).

"Not funny, guys," Jack mumbled, feeling the grass at his feet to freeze over.

"But really," Tooth said, "You're going to have to keep your distance until she gets better."

"Too easy," he replied smoothly. "Say, why are we here, anyway? Aren't we supposed to be at the Pole?"

North looked at Ben, who was asleep on a mossy bed, cheeks tainted pink from her fever. "Tooth said that we cannot bring Ben to North Pole. She sick."

"So?" Jack deadpanned, and he flinched when the Tooth Fairy smacked his arm. "Hey!"

"Be a gentleman," she said sharply, looking Ben.

"I don't get it!" Jack said, waving his staff in circles. "Christmas is in a month and we said we'd help each North finish the gift wrapping. Why are we scrapping our plans because of some… _girl_?"

"She believes, Jack," North said kindly. "It may be hard for you to understand because you are new, but as Guardians, our roles are clear—as long as someone believes, we will be there to protect them."

Jack rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Fine, old man."

"Good." North gave a jovial smile, "Your name is moving down in the Naughty List."

"I thought you took me out." North ignored Jack's accusing glare and turned to Bunnymund.

"Bunny, take the girl home." Bunnymund gave a salute and hopped over to the brunette, slightly shaking her.

"Ey, shiela," Bunnymund cooed softly, "I'm takin' you 'ome." They heard a faint groan from Ben, but that was it. As soon as she was on Bunnymund's back, they took off.

"She's more trouble than she's worth," Jack said decisively, staring at the cave where they exited.

"She is an okay child," North said thoughtfully, walking away, "Sixteen but still a believer. I am impressed. I think I will give her book she wanted for Christmas."

Tooth laid a hand on Jack's shoulder, and her purple eyes met his icy blue ones. "You may not believe it, Jack," she said, her tone motherly, "but she was kind of like you."

Jack turned away and looked at Sandy who gave a small shrug and formed sand pictures of an arrow and the North Pole. Jack sighed in assent, and he moved forward.

"Wait," he stopped, looking around. "Where's Santa?" He looked at Sandy, who only gave him a shrug. "How are we going to get in the North Pole without North?"

"We can fly, Jack," Tooth reminded gently. Jack shook his head.

"No. How do we get _in_ the North Pole without North?"

"…Oh." Jack groaned. He just hoped Phil, the security yeti, didn't miss him _too_ much.

* * *

Ben woke up, feeling oddly comfortable. Her eyes opened groggily, and she felt abnormally warm. Moving around, she realized that she was still in her winter coat. She forced it off of her and sighed in relief, briefly remembering that she was supposed to be in the North Pole right now.

She sat up. "Wait."

"_Bebê_? Benedita?" Ben turned her head to look at her door, which was slightly ajar.

"In here, mama," she called. Footsteps creaked louder and her bedroom door opened, the kind face of her mother peeking in. Big brown eyes (that were heavy with what Ben knew was pain and sorrow) shone with gentleness, despite the bags under them, and a shiny white smile like a star's adorned the sun-kissed complexion of her mother's face.

"_Eu pensei que você saiu_. Weren't you preparing to leave an hour ago?" Her voice was thick with an accent.

Ben sniffled. "I felt sick, so I decided to go home."

"Oh, poor baby," her mother crooned, "I'll bring you some dinner. _Peixe, arroz e um pouco de caldo de galinha quente_. Sound good?"

"_Sim_, mama," she said, lying back to sink back into her sheets, wondering how she got home. Her eyes moved around and saw a daisy pop out of the ground next to her bed and she grinned weakly. Bunnymund, then.

Thank goodness. If it were Jack, she would've gotten even sick—or frostbitten.

_Ha, _she thought. _I would get_ Frost_bitten._

Ben groaned at her ridiculously stupid humor before pressing a hand to her hot forehead. She pulled her hand back and hid under the covers, knowing that even a high fever is no excuse for such a horrible joke.

* * *

_OKAY YEAH MAYBE I SHOULDN'T HAVE PUT THAT BUT WHATEVER IT'S MY STORY._

_Fair warning: Independent character growth ahead!_

_Please review!_


	4. Rivalry

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own anything that belongs to _DreamWorks_. Nor do I own _Disney_, or any related titles. And no, I don't make any profit from borrowing them. _

_**Note:**__ I don't know how often I'll be updating from this chapter on; my laptop's busted so it's in the shop… and repairs will take about a month. Yay._

_Also, I'll be working on character development for this fic, so expect a lot of just-Ben chapters. (Maybe not chapters, but a lot of scenes.) And I've also noticed that I get a lot of flak for that Jack-has-a-crush-on-Ben scene last chapter. Jack does _not_ have a crush on Ben! It's just what friends do to tease._

* * *

**Not As Legendary As You Thought**

* * *

_4 / Rivalry_

* * *

Ben sighed and rubbed her tired grey eyes, bleary from overuse. She'd gone through six chapters, ten articles and made two papers in a span of…

She checked the small, round clock on her desk. _2:13 AM. _

_…Six hours, then._

Ben stretched, leaning back in her chair before pausing to get a hold of herself, making sure she wouldn't fall asleep unless her head would land on her pillow. She slowly moved to fix her things, hitting her pen off her desk in the process. Ben groaned, rubbing her head in frustration. Taking a moment to inspect the partially messy black manicure she did on herself when she procrastinated halfway through her Government paper, she turned her head to look for her pen. The floor was dimmed due to lack of light, and she squinted.

_That's strange_, she mused, eyebrows furrowed. _It's missing._

Deciding that it probably landed somewhere she couldn't see in the dark, she shoved all of her things in her school bag without a care for order, shut off her light and dove onto her bed, almost instantly falling asleep.

* * *

_Desperte, menina. Não temos descanso._

* * *

Ben made a disgusted noise and hit her head on the table. "Why today?" she whined, and an amused brunette slid next to her.

"Someone's less-than-admirable today," she commented, and Ben turned her head to glare at the newcomer.

"What do you want, Meg?"

"Good morning to you, too, Grumpy." Meg sipped daintily from her apple juice box, as if Ben's words mixed in with the chatter that scattered along the cafeteria during lunch hour. Dating the school hero, Hercules, and armed with the sharpest tongue imaginable, Megara was a force to be reckoned with, and spoken to with utmost respect and care for words.

Too bad Ben didn't give a single… something that rhymed with 'duck.'

Flattening her hair, Meg grinned. "You looked awful at Math today."

"_Everyone_ looks awful in Math." Ben paused, sitting up. "Well, everyone except Megamind."

"Makes you wonder why he was named _Megamind_ in the first place, doesn't it?" Meg said sarcastically (which earned a glare from Ben), and took another sip from her juice box. "But that's beside the point. Why do you look extra—" Ben glared at the girl as the latter inspected her up and down, "—dreadful today?"

Ben groaned. "My pen's missing."

"What happened to it?" the brunette asked, as if uninterested.

"I knocked it off my desk when I finished my Government paper, and I looked for it _everywheeeeere_," Ben whined, "but it's _gone_." She let her head drop to the shiny, plastic tabletop.

Meg arched an eyebrow. "You only have one pen?"

"That wasn't the point of this conversation," came the muffled reply.

"You only have _one_ pen?" Meg repeated, and Ben scowled.

"_Eu quero te empurrar de um penhasco_." Meg blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"It was my favorite pen," Ben muttered, burying her face into her hands. "This is the worst day of my life." Meg rolled her eyes at the drama and pulled something from the pocket of her dress, tapping the back of Ben's brunette head. Ben looked up and nearly screamed.

"Here." Ben grabbed the box of the same brand of pen she lost. "I found a box lying around at ho—" The princess was nearly tackled to the ground before she could finish her sentence.

"Oh my _God_, Meg," Ben cried, tearing the box open and grabbing one pen, stuffing the rest into her bag. "You are a _lifesaver_! I love you!"

Meg shrugged, tapping her juice box and all but smug. "I know."

* * *

A glow of golden sand hovered outside her window, and Ben looked at the silver watch on her wrist. _12:13 AM._ She sighed and pushed aside her biology book, getting off her messy bed to open her window. She shook at the sudden rush of cold air.

She grinned sheepishly at an adorably stern-looking Sandman, floating outside her window, tapping his wrist as if to indicate the time. She gave a sheepish shrug, running a hand through her dark hair.

"Sorry, Sandy," she said, moving to let the small Guardian in, and rubbed her arms once she closed the window. "I'm studying."

Sandman nodded understandingly, but his face turned serious. A few figures formed over his head, and Ben tried to read what he was trying to say.

"That's an M&M. What… oh wait. _Half_ an M&M? So, that's an M? Okay. And an—oh! Am I…" Ben tilted her head. "Am I… a thermo—what—_oh_! Am I still sick, is that what you mean?" she asked, and Sandy nodded his head. Ben shook her head.

"I've been fine for the past week, but I don't push my limits by going out a lot." Sandy gave her a look and formed an _X_ and a figure of a door. Ben rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine, I don't go out at all. As much as I can help it, at least." Sandy floated around her room, the trail of golden sand he left behind him making her smile.

She looked at him when he turned instantly to her. He started forming figures over his head, serious. "Have I—" she stopped, instantly knowing what Sandy was trying to say.

"No," she whispered, and Sandy drew closer, concerned. "I don't… I mean, I fall asleep, but I keep waking up. I hadn't had a good sleep in…" she rubbed her nose, "In a while."

A snowflake formed over Sandy's head.

"He doesn't go here," she said, eyebrow raised, "It doesn't snow in San Francisco." When she saw Sandy flash a series of years over his head while counting them off with his fingers, she conceded, "Fine. _Sometimes_, it snows here. But barely!" She paused. "The last time I saw him… I was sick then. That was about two weeks ago."

Sandy merely nodded and gave her a smile. He motioned for her to get on her bed, and Ben nearly melted. "You're going to help me sleep?" she asked, both touched and excited and when he nodded. It was all she took to not kick off her school things off of her mattress.

As calmly as she could, she put away her things and smoothed out her white sheets, climbing up and snuggling under the covers. "I appreciate this, Sandy," she said, and he nodded, motioning for her to close her eyes. She did, and she felt the peaceful feeling of good dreams welcome her into slumber.

* * *

As soon as Ben was asleep, Sandy's eyes scanned her room. It was small and quaint—bright with colors of the sun and a mural of the Virgin Mary. If there was a threat here last night, it certainly wasn't present now.

He reached into his robes and pulled out a small, dark blue pouch, tied with a golden string, floating over to sprinkle the golden contents all over the room, and pulling out another identical one and tied it around Ben's wrist. It vanished almost instantly.

Pushing open the window and disappearing into the night, Sandy only hoped that it would be enough to keep her safe.

* * *

_Well… that was a lot of fun. I have to figure out where this Jackson Overland stuff is coming from, though._

_Review, please!_


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